


The Royals’ Lady

by Dreamsofmusic



Category: Chronicles of Narnia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22752241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsofmusic/pseuds/Dreamsofmusic
Summary: The Pevensies were not kings and queens in England  they were just ordinary children; filled with mixed emotions of being home. Their close bond was beginning to fall apart, until a new friend appears to make things better again
Kudos: 3





	The Royals’ Lady

The crying was barely audible, which was probably how it had continued for so long with so many laughing, chattering girls walking past the hidden alcove. It was only that Hazel was passing alone, having had to go back to the French room for her glasses that she heard it. And due to her sisterly instinct she couldn’t just leave someone crying; though her friends would have told her to do this.

Slowly she peeked around the curtain and she saw a little dark haired girl sitting, crying her eyes out.

It wasn’t unusual these days to see tears. Every few days there was work someone was dead or missing – brothers, fathers, beaux, childhood friends. It was the effect of war, it hit everyone in some way.

“Hello.” Hazel crouched down beside the girl and took a handkerchief from her pocket. “Here.”

“Thank you,” the girl sniffed. She took the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. Through clear eyes she now recognised the older girl as a sixth form prefect and immediately felt embarrassed at being found crying.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said.

“For what? We all need a cry now and again. Now, would you like some hot chocolate? And maybe you can tell me what’s wrong,” Hazel asked. The girl nodded with a small smile, she couldn’t say no to anything chocolate related.

“I’m Lucy,” she said.

“Nice to meet you Lucy, I’m Hazel.” She stood up and helped Lucy off the ground. Hazel led Lucy to her study. She normally shared it with Priscilla Matthews, but her brother had been killed the previous week, so she was away home for a while.

Hazel directed Lucy to an empty chair by the fireplace and took the kettle from the cupboard. Lucy looked around at the small room, she had always imagined the sixth form studies to be a bit scary. But this was nice, it was homey.

There were two large desks, one was clean while the other was covered in papers. There were two comfortable, though worn armchairs by the fire; one of which Lucy was currently sitting in. On shelves there were books and photographs and little figurines. There was even a wireless sitting in one corner.

“This is lovely,” Lucy said.

“Thank you. Pris and I try to keep it nice. Better environment for working,” Hazel replied, carrying over two cups, a kettle of water and a little jar of chocolate powder. “My uncle sent me this for my birthday. He and my aunt moved to America a few years ago, and he knows I love chocolate.” She set the kettle to boil and sat in the chair opposite Lucy. Hazel reached down to untie her shoes and motioned for Lucy to do the same.

“The worst part of rationing? The same school shoes for three years,” she said, with a laugh.

“I miss all the sweets!” Lucy said and Hazel nodded.

“Is that the reason for your tears? No sweets?”

“No, my sister. She’s being rather horrid,” Lucy said.

“Really?”

“I think she’s just upset about Narnia. That she can’t go back. But she says I should grow up and stop talking about it,” Lucy said.

“Narnia?” Hazel watched as the younger girl’s face lit up as she began her story of talking animals, white witches and being a queen.

“…But Aslan told Susan and Peter they would never go back, and I don’t think Susan is happy,” Lucy finished.

“My goodness,” Hazel said. The whole family must have had some imaginations to make it all up and to make it seem so vivid. She almost believed Lucy, even though it was impossible.

“Yes, I’d say you need to give Susan time, maybe be very nice to her for while,” Hazel said, just as there was a knock on the door and Maisie Smythe stuck her head in.

“Bea says any articles that aren’t given to her in the next hour aren’t getting into the paper,” she said.

“Tell her it’s nearly done. And she knows I’m always the last,” Hazel replied.

“I will,” Maisie said, closing the door again.

“I should go,” Lucy said, standing up. She had already overstayed her welcome and her new friend had work to do.

“Don’t be silly,” Hazel replied. “You’ve missed half your prep. So sit there at Pris’ desk and get something done.” Lucy made her think of her own sisters at home and she was enjoying her company.

“Really?” Lucy smiled and leapt forward to hug her.

“Of course, as long as you don’t mind a bit of music. I work with the wireless on,” Hazel added. Lucy shook her head.

“Who’s that in the picture?” She asked, looking at the picture of Hazel and a young man.

“My brother James. He’s in the RAF. I think I’m going to join too, once I finish school,” Hazel said.

“Really? That’s so brave. Peter wouldn’t let me fight in Narnia, he said I was too young.”

* * *

Over the next few days the two saw a lot of each other. Lucy would slip into Hazel’s study in the evening and they would work happily in silence. It was better, she thought, away from the mean girls in her form, who were of the same opinion as Susan; she was too old for make believe. Hazel never seemed like this, in fact, she encouraged it. Telling her to write down her stories from Narnia. This was probably the main reason why, on Friday, when the Pevensie family were catching the train back to Finchley Lucy would not stop talking about her new friend. How kind and smart and funny and brave Hazel was, and pretty with red curls and brown eyes. If Hazel had heard she would have been sure to disagree, she wasn’t so wonderful. She was a horror in the mornings, a born worrier and too much of a perfectionist for her own good.

* * *

The following Monday, when everyone was back at school, it was time for dance lessons to begin for the sixth form girls. This was a cause for great excitement for most, Bea Arthurs probably being the main exception. Bea was more comfortable in a pair of trousers, hands covered in ink as she worked on the St Finbar’s Gazette, a newspaper of her own creation. As one of her best friends it fell to Hazel to try and convince her that dance lessons in Hendon House wouldn’t be all that bad.

“Says you! You had dance lessons before you could walk,” Bea moaned.

“Let’s not make that a public fact,” Hazel replied, the last thing she wanted was to be used as an example.

“It’s not like there’s anyone to dance with anyway,” Eliza added. Maisie elbowed her, the last thing they needed was more complaining about the lessons. They had already been warned about best behaviour or the privilege would be stopped.

In the sports hall of Hendon House the girls became quiet, while it looked identical to St Finbar’s there was a very different atmosphere. The girls stood in a group in one corner while the boys stood in another, staring and nudging one another.

“Could their staring be any more obvious?”

“Now if you would like to find a partner,” Ms Rowan shouted to the groups of sixteen year old.

“How are we supposed to do that if we don’t know them?” Maisie whispered. Slowly, the more confident of the two groups and those that knew each other from outside of school began to choose their partners.

“Maybe we could partner each other?” Bea suggested.

“Don’t think so,” Hazel said, as a tall fair haired boy walked up to them.

“Excuse me. Are you Hazel?” He asked, and she nodded. “I guessed from Lucy’s descriptions. Would you like to be my partner?”

“Yes,” Hazel said, as her friends giggled and she walked away from them. “You’re Peter then?”

“Yes. I’d like to say thank you for being kind to Lucy,” he said.

“She’s very sweet,” Hazel replied.

“Most of the time,” Peter laughed.

“I think she’s having a hard time settling in,” Hazel admitted.

“Yes, I don’t think Susan is helping her very much. She hasn’t been herself recently,” he said.

“Lucy mentioned that. You know I think Lucy would happily be Peter Pan and never grow up.”

“She doesn’t mind the growing up. She just doesn’t want to forget Narnia, like Susan seems to be doing.”

“I suppose we all forget childhood fantasies after a while,” Hazel said.

“It’s not a fantasy. Not to Lucy anyway,” Peter said. Not to him either, but he didn’t want to appear crazy.

“I like hearing about it. I told her she can come some holiday and tell my sisters. They would love it. Kate’s favourite book is the Hobbit and she’s only eleven.”

“She’ll be starting St Finbar’s next year?”

“No,” was all she got to reply before they were directed on what to do next. Dancing came easily to Hazel, she had been learning since she was young and early memories were of being whirled around while standing on her father’s feet. Peter seemed quite able as well, he took the lead and she followed.

“So how come you’re so good at this? “ Peter asked.

“I’ve been doing it for years. I could ask you the same.”

“Just picked it up I suppose,” he replied, not wanting to mention Narnian banquets and dances.

“Is there nothing faster?” Someone called out as the same waltz came on for the third time.

“When are we ever going to need this anyway?” Bea added.

“Some of you once, you have finished your education, may have the opportunity to mix with the elite of English society. Therefore, you must be able to dance,” Mrs Layton said. She was very old fashioned, in charge of the weekly etiquette lessons that every St Finbar’s girl received.

“But the only one who has any chance of that is - - Ouch!” Bea’s complaint was quickly stopped when Hazel dug her heel into her foot. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Peter, who decided he would ask about it at a later point. It was probably a wise move by the teachers to stop the lesson there, just so they didn’t have to listen to anymore complaining.

“You wouldn’t happen to be free on Saturday?” Peter asked, just as the girls started to get ready to leave.

“Yes. Why?”

“Would you like to have tea with me?” The look she gave him must have struck him as odd, as he quickly added, “as a thank you. For helping Lucy.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you in Polly’s at 3.”

“Great. See you then.” And with that Hazel rushed to catch up with the other girls.


End file.
